If Only
by DocFaustus
Summary: Erik Lechenrr had a daughter. He didn't keep her. She lived her life all alone, and when two X-men show up at her doorstep, they offer her something she cannot refuse. Even though she accepts their offer, she gets dragged into a fight that wasn't hers. She must accept that she is a mutant, or lose her own personal battle.
1. Chapter 1

I watched X-men first class, this idea popped into my head. I will say this now- I OWN NOTHING! This disclaimer will go for the rest of the story, because it's very tiring having to repeat myself over and over. So once again, I OWN NOTHING. Good day. Well, actually, I do own Delilah Lechenrr (I think that's how you spell it) because she is one of my many OC's.

000

Let it be heard now that I, Delilah Lechenrr, never thought I would be anything more than what I was. I never thought life was going to screw me over once more, but life is a cruel bitch sometimes. Why? Because life throws you under the bus and makes the road twist and turn and gives it the horrible life changing bumps in the road. If you don't handle those twists and turns, those bumps, then your life can turn into a horrible confusing mosh pit of confliction emotions and situations. Well I didn't handle my bumps in the road very well, and a Mosh Pit of emotions is what my life became. As soon as those men showed up on my doorstep, I knew that Life was going to r me a new one, and it would screw me over even more than the first time.

See, the first time I really started to hate life was probably when I was fourteen. I had grown up in foster care my entire life, being moved from home to home, place to place. Each time the parents always said there was something not right with me, and I would be moved again, and when I was fourteen, I discovered why. When I had shown up on a woman's doorstep as a baby, there was a note with me. Cliché, I know. The note said: _Her name is Delilah Lechenrr. Take care of her She is special, more than you can imagine. Don't make her angry, because even I do not know what the aftermath will be. She does not belong with me, and I cannot raise her as a father. Good luck. _ But even the woman I was left with didn't want me, and I was passed around like joint to a group of junkies. The note was passed with me, but I was never allowed to read it until my fourteenth birthday. To know that I was not accepted by even my own blood family was horrifying, and I ripped the note to shreds.

They had been warned not to make me angry, but by letting me read the note, they had unwittingly made me so. That was the first time I had thought, "If only I was normal." No one had ever said I was different, but I could tell. I could see it in their eyes. They knew something inside of me was different, and I was not normal enough to keep, so they passed me on to the next family. When I was sixteen, it was 2005. The family I was staying with had gone out for errands, and I had opted to stay behind. To hold down the fort, so to speak. Well, while they were out, a group of men decided to break into the house, even knowing I was still there. They had guns and knives and they held me at gunpoint. They said that if I told them where all the valuables were, they would let me go. I knew they were lying, but I told them anyway. I gladly directed them to the jewelry and the safe under the bed. Even though I was directing them right to all things valuable, they still trashed the house. And when they had everything in their bags, they forced me to my knees and pressed the barrel of a gun to my forehead.

I just laughed and told them to do it, that I would welcome my fate. I lowered my head to my chest and smiled to myself. Being dead was better than being unwanted. So the man holding the gun pulled the trigger, point blank. I knew I should have been dead, there was only a few inches of space between the barrel of the gun and my head, but I was still conscious. I looked up at the man to see his terrified face and the faces of his fellow thieves. The bullet was centimeters away from my face, spinning in place. I slowly reached up and pinched the bullet in between two of my fingers. It stopped spinning and I dropped it on the floor with a soft 'plink'. I looked back up at the men above me and grinned, realizing that they were _afraid_ of me. I whispered a soft, "Boo," and they scattered, fleeing like mice. I stood up, knees shaking and made my way past the kitchen and up to my borrowed room. I packed my bags and took them down, setting them by the door. I sat at the counter and ate an apple while I waited for my temporary parents to come home. When the walked through the door, the looked at the bags curiously, and then they saw me. I will never forget the looks on their faces. I asked them when they wanted me gone, and it took them less than five minutes to call Child Services. As I sat in the back of the black car of the Child services woman, the realization that I was a mutant sank in. I did not speak for four weeks. I was the epitome of what the general public feared, a young mutant who didn't know her full power and could end up killing thousands of people. But I did not tell a single soul of what had happened in that house.

As I grew older, I played around with my power, levitating coins, twisting paper clips, nothing too extreme. But when I turned eighteen and I could finally ditch foster care, I stopped experimenting. I was going to college, and I couldn't risk someone finding out what I was. Mutants were always met with fear, but I really couldn't blame the public for disliking my kind. We were different and new, and everything new is just a little bit scary at first. I knew there were others like me, but I never tried to find any. I didn't know if my mutation was normal, didn't know if even other mutants would be afraid of me. So I stayed quiet, blended into the crowd. I never did anything drastic or tried to make a statement. I had been raised with no friends, so I had little to no social skills. I was just another face in the crowd, a friendless nobody. It's a wonder I hadn't tried to kill myself yet. Sure, I had thought of it, but then I thought to myself, "What point is there in dying? I won't have anyone up there to greet me. I'd be just the same up there as I am down here."

Well, that's what I thought at the time. I do have friends now, I suppose. We have our differences; some of us big time, but it's nice to know there's someone there for me. Now that my backstory is all cleared up, why don't I start at the beginning?

000

I was dreaming, a rare occurrence since I had actually gone to sleep at the proper time. I was standing on a hill with willow trees all around me and a river snaking below me. There was a man beside me with graying hair, probably mid to late fifties. He had a hand on my shoulder, but it was not restricting. I took a step forward and his hand slipped off my shoulder. I took another step and another until I was running down the hill towards the river. I splashed in the shallows, my childlike innocence coming out of me. My back was to the hill and I couldn't see the man anymore. I sat on the bank of the river and kicked my feet in the water, grinning. I could hear birds in the trees, and even a woodpecker in the distance. As I sat on the bank with my feet in the water, the woodpecker seemed to get louder until it was right behind me.

I woke up with a start, kicking the sheets off my legs and sitting up. I put my head in my hands and raked my fingers through my dark hair. I blinked when I heard the tapping of the woodpecker again. I raised my head slightly, eyes wide. I swung my legs over the edge of my bed and crept over to the window in my room. I parted the blinds and peered out between the gap in the blinds, wondering if it was a tree branch on my window. I heard the tap again, but it sounded more like someone knocking the door of my apartment. I turned and walked out of my room, grabbing my blue bathrobe of one of the barstools in the kitchen. I slung it over my shoulders like a cape and peered through the peephole in the door. There were two shapes there, one slightly smaller than the other. I opened the door, keeping the chain on so it didn't open all the way.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" I snapped, glaring at the two figures, one of which had white hair.

"Of course we do, but we couldn't wait any longer," the taller of the two said. He was a guy, probably around nineteen or twenty.

"Whatever, good night." I made to shut the door, but the man stuck his foot out and stopped it.

"Get your foot out of the door right now, or I call the police," I threatened. "Don't think I won't."

"Oh, we believe you," the woman with the white hair said. "But the police won't do anything."

"What makes you think that?" I regarded her coldly. She wakes me up in the middle of the night on a school night, for that, and demands to see me? Who does she think she is?

"My name is Storm," she said, answering my question like she had read my mind.

"Right. Now, tell your friend to get his foot out of my door, or I might do something you'll wish I hadn't." there was the scrape of a boot on wood flooring and the man withdrew his foot. Before I could shut the door, he said, "We're mutants, just like you." I froze, and then swallowed thickly. I closed the door enough to unhook the chain from the door, and then opened it wide enough for them to enter.

"You have five minutes to talk. If I like what you say, then you get an hour."

000

So, tell me what you think! I hope you like it. Remember, Review! Reviews are my lifeblood, and I need them! The more you review, the faster I update.


	2. Chapter 2

"Iceman," I said, pointing to the male companion to the woman named Storm. He nodded and I pursed my lips. "Gee, I wonder what your mutation could be." I rolled my eyes sarcastically. The two late night visitors were sitting on my couch with their hands folded neatly in their laps looking at me as I stood in front of them with my arms crossed in only my pajamas and bathrobe.

"That isn't funny," Iceman or Bobby, as he had said before.

I shook my head. "Wasn't supposed to be."

"Delilah," Storm interrupted before the conversation could get any farther. "We really have to explain our situation."

"So explain it," I snapped, glaring at her. "All I know is that you dropped in on me in the middle of the night telling me that you're both mutants and you want to help me."

Storm smiled at me pityingly. "Why are you so angry? It isn't your fault you are what you are. And if you hate being a mutant so much, why didn't you get the Cure two years ago?"

"I never said I hated what I was, and do not pity me. I get enough of that already. Just tell me why you're here."

"We're here to warn you," Bobby said, shooting me a bored glance.

"From what?" I sighed exasperatedly. "You keep beating around the bush and avoiding my questions. If you don't tell me what I want to know, then you can just leave!"

"There is a person out there who is kidnapping mutants and forcing the Cure, or something similar, on them," Storm blurted. "We're trying to help you."

"How do I know you aren't the bad guys?" I shot back, glaring.

"You don't," Storm said, raising an eyebrow and smiling sadly. "But you have to trust us. Besides, if we wanted to Cure you, we would have done it when you opened the door."

She had a valid point. "If I go with you," I said cautiously. "What will happen to me? Will I spend my life in some tiny room while you 'protect me'?"

"No, we train you to use your powers and then if you wish, you help us fight. There are a lot of people out there like you. You can use your powers without being met with fear or hostility," Bobby said, getting to the point. Finally, they weren't wasting my time. But really, couldn't they do any better? I snorted in derision.

"Yeah. And I had a happy childhood with loving parents." I rolled my eyes again. "Please. I find very hard to believe that there is a place like that. No mutant will ever be able to use their powers without fear."

"But there is," Storm said excitedly. "I teach there. It's a school for people like us."

"What if I don't go with you?" I was only testing their patience now. I had to admit, the idea was nice. Living in a place where I didn't have to worry about fear. But it was just a fantasy, and I could barely even lift a quarter up, not to mention I hadn't used my powers since I was eighteen and I was now twenty four.

"Then you get captured and the Cure is forced upon you, and you lose your powers," Storm said simply. "Speaking of, what are your powers?"

"I doesn't matter," I said defensively. "How do you know I'm a mutant anyway?"

"Our professor is a telepath," Bobby explained. "He located you using a machine called Cerebro."

I sighed and closed my eyes. I was going to make a really stupid decision. "What if you take me to see your school, and then I'll decide if I want to stay?"

"Well it's better than nothing!" Storm said happily. "Pack your bags!"

I stared at her incredulously, and then started shaking my head. "We're leaving tonight?"

"Yes," Bobby said, standing up. "We need to get to New York tonight too, so we have to leave soon."

"You can't get from Washington to New York in one night," I scoffed.

"You can when we fly the plane." I shook my head and rolled my eyes, but left to get packed. I was making a horrible mistake, I could tell, but I couldn't help myself. The prospect was too exciting. I shoved more than enough clothes into one bag and changed into more appropriate clothes. I filled my backpack with my notepads and pencils and other things I might need, then left my room and met Storm and Bobby in my living room.

"You pack fast," Bobby commented and I narrowed my eyes.

"Let's just go," I huffed. Storm turned and walked out my door, which was followed by Bobby. I hesitated slightly. I could just close the door behind them and forget everything that had just happened, but my legs started moving of their own accord. I shut the door behind me and walked after Bobby who was down the hall. We kept walking until we were on the other side of the apartment building, then we walked down the stairs and out across the courtyard. Storm pulled a small device out of her pocket and pressed the button. The air in front of me shimmered, and a very high tech looking plane materialized in front of me.

"Whoa," I whispered. Bobby smirked at me and Storm pressed another button. A stairway opened up and Storm trotted up the steps, followed closely by Bobby, and then by me. The inside of the plane was almost as high tech as the outside, with long panels of switches and buttons. I shivered with anticipation and sat down in one of the many seats. Storm went to the front of the plane and belted herself into one of the seats. She started flipping switches and a low hum started below the plane. It jerked violently for one second, and then it started to hover off the ground. I gripped the arm rests at the side an brethed sharply through my nose.

"Problem?" Bobby asked curiously.

I gulped and glanced at him. "Let's just say I hate airplanes more than Indiana Jones hates snakes."

Bobby laughed and I glared at him. "It isn't funny," I whispered, clenching the armrests harder.

"Whoa, are you really scared?" Bobby asked like it was some weird freakish thing to be scared of planes. I glared at him and he looked away. Then the plane lurched up off the ground and started its way to New York.

000

I spent the entire flight with my eyes shut tight, breathing hard. When the plane lurched to a halt, I had to pry my fingers away from the metal rests. "Is it over?"

"Yeah," Bobby said as he unbuckled his seat belt and stood up. "We're here." I unbuckled myself and stood up, legs shaking. I grabbed my backpack and duffel bag and quickly got off the plane. I halted abruptly and stared at the hangar I was in. it was positively massive, probably larger than more than four football fields. There were more planes in the hangar, each one identical. Everything was a neutral gray and it made or a disorienting appearance. But that wasn't what made me stop. Part of my mutation was being able to sense metal, mostly places where one type of metal was concentrated. And a large chunk of metal was very close by. But it was… moving?

"Oh wow," I marveled. "I like this place already." I turned to Bobby who was standing next to me. "I would very much like to meet the moving hunk of metal that's above us."

"What?" Bobby gave me an odd look. I smiled tightly.

"Never mind." I turned to look up at Storm as she walked down to meet us.

"Let's go meet everyone, shall we?" Storm smiled at me and started walking. I followed her around a labyrinth of silver hallways, observing everything about this school. I could tell that this entire bottom level was composed almost entirely out of metal. Even the elevator, which looked like it was supposed to be wood, had a rod of steel running through it, giving it support.

"Lots of metal," I murmured as the elevator took us up to the top floor. Bobby shot me another odd look and I smiled slyly. "So where are you taking me?" I asked when the elevator doors opened and we all stepped out into a long hallway with dark brown floors.

"To the Professor," Storm said as she started walking. "He'll explain your mutation and even figure out if you have more than one."

I pursed my lips but followed anyway. Storm stopped before a tall wooden door and glanced back at me before pushing it open and stepping inside. There was a man sitting behind a mahogany desk and a row of young people sat before him. The man flicked his fingers and the students stood up and filed past us. The last one out the door shut it behind them, leaving me alone in the room with three people I barely knew. I turned my attention to the man sitting behind the desk and looked him over more carefully. He had kind brown eyes and wrinkles at the corners, indicators that he smiled a lot.

"It's good to finally meet you, Delilah," he said. "You look a lot like your father."

"You knew him." It was more a statement than a question, but one filled with hate.

"I did. He used to be a good man."

I bit the inside of my cheek and huffed. "So did you only want me to come here so you could tell me how great my father used to be?" the man sighed and wheeled himself out from behind the desk.

"Storm, get Logan. He should probably be here for this." Storm nodded and left, closing the door tightly behind her. The man folded his hands in his lap and looked at me.

"I have a name. You don't have to think of me as 'the man'."

"Then tell it to me," I said testily.

"I am Charles Xavier."

I was about to make a smart reply when the door opened and a tall man with black hair entered. He looked me over, and then turned his attention to Xavier. He was the walking chunk of metal. Being so close to such a concentrated source of rare metal was almost euphoric. Storm walked in behind him and took up a position to my left, next to Bobby. I had forgotten he was even in the room.

"Miss Delilah, this is Logan," Charles introduced. "Delilah has quite the rare mutation. I've only seen it once before."

"What is it then?" Logan asked gruffly.

"It would be best if she told you," Charles countered reasonably. All of the attention in the room was suddenly focused on me, and I didn't like it.

"Look," I said uneasily, putting my hands up. "I haven't used my powers in years. I really don't know if I can still use them. So, I'm just going to leave this place and get a taxi home or something." I edged closer to the door and tried to ease it open.

"Delilah," Xavier warned.

"No, really," I said opening the door a little farther. "I'll just forget all about this." Charles sighed and wheeled his chair behind the desk. He pulled open a drawer and withdrew a pistol.

"I am sorry about this," he said, then pulled the trigger. There was the crack of a gunshot and the shouts of three people, but no sound of a body hitting the floor. I cracked an eye open and looked at the bullet hovering in the air above my palm. I released my hold on it and I dropped to the ground.

"What. The. HELL!" I shouted angrily. "You could have just killed me, and for what, to prove that I could use my powers or what?"

Charles folded his hands on his desk and leaned forwards. "Delilah, tell us your full name please."

My brows furrowed in confusion before I answered, "Delilah Erika Lechenrr, why?" the tension in the room shot up and Logan glared at me.

"Magneto's kid?" he asked, outraged. "He had a kid, and you brought her _here?"_

"I don't see the issue with having her here," Charles said calmly.

"She is the daughter of a wannabe tyrant!"

"Her dad tried to destroy the human race."

"He's the reason Jean's dead."

"Hey," I tried to interrupt the torrent of reasons of why I shouldn't be here, but no one heard me.

"Hey," I said a little louder. I sighed and shouted, "Hey!" they all looked at me in confusion.

"What?" Logan snapped.

"Don't I get to say something?" I looked at them all. "I never met my father. He left me on a doorstep as a baby. His actions shouldn't reflect on me. It's like you're punishing me for a crime I didn't commit."

"She has a point," Bobby admitted grudgingly.

"Thanks," I drawled sarcastically.

"I was being sincere."

"You're incapable if sincerity."

"Am I now?" He asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yes you are."

"You hardly know me!"

"I know you enough," I said, getting quiet again. My face felt hot and I ducked my head.

"Well then," Charles said. "Logan if you will. Please show Miss Lechenrr to one of the spare rooms. Bobby, you need to make up for work you missed. I believe Rouge has your work. Storm, I need you to check on Billy, he hasn't been feeling well but he hadn't told anyone." I turned to leave, but was stopped by a hand on the back of my neck.

"Just follow me," Logan growled.

"You can let go of me," I said as we walked down the hall.

"Wouldn't want a little girl like you to get lost," he said in his gravelly voice. I glowered at him and focused on his hand. It jerked away from me and he staggered back a little bit.

"Thank you, Puppet." I smiled sweetly.

"What did you call me?" he asked, cracking his knuckles. I took a step closer to him.

"I called you Puppet." I stared him down, looking him in the eye. He put a heavy hand on my shoulder and I stumbled a little bit.

"Why?" he ground out.

"Because," I leaned closer to him. "You're made of metal. And I can do whatever the hell I want with metal."

"He snorted in amusement and took his hand off of me. "I doubt it. But you're alright kid. You'll do fine here." He started walking again and I followed reluctantly.

"What make you think I'm staying?"

Logan stopped in front of a tall door and gestured to it. "Because I do. This is your room. Make yourself comfortable." Then he walked away without a second glance. I rolled my eyes and opened the door to my room. I looked around and 'hmmed'. It was much nicer than my apartment. Hell, all it needed was a kitchen and it would be an apartment by itself. I sighed and shook my head tiredly.

"What did I get myself into?" I asked helplessly. I sighed again and closed the door.

000

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